


Not a Mistake

by GabrielsGumdropGirl (Sammys_Sunshine)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Reader, Abused by parents, Alley attack, Bar Hopping, Bartender best bros, Bartender best friends, Drinking, F/M, Feelings Realization, Guardian Lucifer, Here a smut, Hospitalization, Kidnapping Angels are Dicks with wings, Love of an archangel, Possessive Lucifer, Protective Lucifer, Reader's Birthday, Reader's parentage revealed, Slight abandonment, Slow Burn, Slow recovery, There a smut, Wrath of the Devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 16:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13616790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammys_Sunshine/pseuds/GabrielsGumdropGirl
Summary: You felt like your whole life had been a mistake.





	Not a Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> As per request, a Lucifer story for my loyal followers.

You felt like your whole life had been a mistake. It was like you didn't exist to anyone. You had no friends, your parents hated you and were never around unless it was to belittle or abuse you. That was their favorite past time. _Let's see how far we can push her today._ They'd go hit for hit. Mommy dearest would go for the gut while dear ol' step daddy would go for your face. You'd lose track of how many times your nose had been broken, and how many times you'd needed to be taken to the hospital for possible internal bleeding and broken limbs. Those injuries, of course, would be blamed on a believable accident. No one questioned your parents. Hell, the nicest thing that your stepdad ever did for you was use a condom the first time he raped you. Wouldn't want to get the waste of space knocked up, would we? You threw yourself into your schoolwork, striving for straight A's and a 4.0 GPA to get the fuck away from them. They left you alone during the school week, going to their parties with their uppity friends who also pretended not to have any children. You'd long ago stopped believing in God. Where the hell was he when you started praying to him at the age of ten when the abuse started? You weren't dumb enough to ask for a savior because there was no one to save you but yourself.

  
At sixteen, you got a job, saved up enough money and earned your permit, quickly gaining enough hours to get your license and a vehicle soon after that. Your 'parents' were less than thrilled when you spent as little time as you could in that hell hole, and especially pissed that it was harder to leave marks on you since you were out in public more.

Did that stop them? Hell, no! They just came up with more sick and twisted ways to abuse you where people couldn't see.

  
At eighteen you got offered full-ride scholarships to any college you wanted. So, the night after graduation, you packed up what little shit you had, said goodbye to the state you lived in and headed to the farthest fucking place you could away from it and your 'parents'.

  
College was fun because you were finally free, but you still had no friends. The boys stayed the hell away from you and that was just fine. You were too fucked up to be with anyone anyway. Four years later, you had a degree in (favorite subject), your own apartment and were working a mundane job to keep yourself out of debt the best you could.

  
The night of your twenty-fifth birthday, however, your life was about to change.

  
Your boss had given you the weekend off, and just your luck, your birthday was on a Friday. You'd been busting your ass lately and he saw it, promising a promotion in your future. Leaving work early and using your birthday as an excuse to shop, you went to your favorite little store to buy a snazzy black dress and took it home to get ready for your night out. You kept your (h/l) (h/c) down, applied a few simple strokes of makeup, slipped into your dress and slid your feet into a decent pair of heels.   
The first bar you hit was a block away from your place, and one you frequented often. The bartender tonight was Murphy. He's Irish, covered in tattoos, with long brown locks and blue eyes and had a no bull shit attitude. He and his brother Connor ran the place, and you'd indulged in sleeping with them once or twice just to take the edge off. It was never awkward between any of you afterward, and you were definitely grateful. They'd become the protectors' you'd always wanted; the family you'd always needed.

  
"The usual for ya t'night, lass?"

  
"Not tonight, Murph."

  
"Aye? What's th'occasion?"

  
"My birthday."

  
"Really now?"

  
_Oh no._

  
You recognized that tone and hid your face underneath your hands as Murphy climbed onto the bar and shouted for everyone to shut the fuck up. Two strong arms helped lift you up to the bar to stand next to him.

  
"T'night is this little lass's birthday. Ye can all help wit singin' her a song or get th'fuck out. Ye hear?"

  
The whole bar responded with an enthusiastic hurrah and began a very drunken 'happy birthday' song. You thanked them all with a wave because there was no way in hell you were bowing in this dress, and blushed when Murphy planted a big, wet one smack on your lips.

  
"Happy birthday, my bird. If'n ye want some company t'night, ya know where to find me."

  
His blue eyes glittered in the dim bar light, and batted your eyelashes playfully, your (e/c) ones full of desire.

  
"Maybe."

  
Murphy helps you down from the bar, breaking a rule and letting you sit behind it. Several men buy you drinks that night, but only one stuck out the most. Crystal blue eyes gazed at you from across the bar, almost shadowed by the corner table he sat at, nursing a pitcher of beer and a plate of nachos. His sandy blond hair stuck up in tufts, giving him a wind-tousled, bad boy, 'I will fuck you senseless all night long' kind of look. He was dangerous, there was no doubt about it. The way he moved absolutely screamed 'alpha' and made all the other men give him a wide berth. Very few women approached and were quickly shut down.

  
"Murph!" you slurred, attaching yourself to the back of the grizzly bartender, and wrapping your arms around his waist.

  
"Yes?"

  
"I'm gonna go hit up a few more places but!" and you lower your voice, murmuring close to his ear, "I'll come back to you tonight. Aye?"

  
Murphy growled low in his throat, pupils slightly widening.

  
"Aye."

  
You gave him a good show of swinging your hips as you walked out the door, waving goodbye behind you. Loud goodbyes followed you out, along with the man that had kept you in his sights all night.

  
The cool summer air sobered you up a bit, making it clearer for you to think as you walked to the next bar. You weren't going to go farther than a few blocks away from Murphy and Connor's bar; not feeling too adventurous tonight. It was possible to get drunk with the five bars surrounding you but you at least wanted to make it back to Murphy without being too trashed to get there. Your limit was one shot and a mixed drink per bar. With tonight being your birthday, you didn't even have to pay for them. That bubbly drunk feeling filled every emotion, making you unaware of being tracked as you left the last bar and headed back to Murphy.

Someone whistled from behind you as you passed an alley, so you instinctively turned around to look for whoever it was and were hit in the back, knocking you to the ground.

  
"Awww," a familiar, gravelly voice drawled. "Poor drunk girl fell down."

  
Blinking and looking up to your attacker, your heart froze when you saw them. Your mom and stepdad were here.

  
Your stepdad circled around you as you tried getting up from the damp cement, trying to unfog your mind. You made it into a sitting position but promptly kicked back down.

  
"We saw you in there," your mother snarled. "Flirting with all those men. Being the little whore we always knew you were."

  
_Lethal blue eyes watched from afar, waiting for the right moment to strike._

  
A quick glance around let you know that you were only a few feet away from the entrance of Murphy's bar, and it should be getting close to closing time. Your stepdad noticed you looking around, and slammed the toe of his work boots into your temple, making you see stars. You'd long learned to keep your mouth shut while they beat the shit out of you but this time, you couldn't help but let out a pained cry.

  
_Blue eyes began to glow red._

  
They laughed at you as you held your head in your hands, tears streaming down your face. It spurred them on, and with a cackle, your mother and stepdad began relentlessly kicking and punching you, landing a few hard shots to your ribs and face. Blood poured out of your nose, staining the cement below you. Just as suddenly as the beatings began, they ended. Your mind was too dazed to register what was happening. Something powerful flung your stepdad against the side of the bar with enough force to shake the building and kill him immediately. Your mother screamed at the attacker until she was met with burning red orbs, and a hand around her throat, squeezing it tight enough and holding her still while the being revealed it's true face and burned her eyes out and fried her brain, snapping her neck for good measure. A glowing white light washed over you, healing your biggest injuries to keep you alive until help was called.

  
Murphy came out immediately after, noticing the bodies of your parents first and then you, lying too still and broken on the wet cement in a puddle of your own blood. A few patrons followed him out and as he cradled your unconscious form in his arms, he screamed for someone to call an ambulance.

  
_Ember filled pupils simmered down but burned with something else as they observed the older man holding you. It wasn't time for him to completely make his presence known but, as soon as he did, you were his and his alone. No one would ever hurt you again._

  
"Stay wit me, lass," Murphy whispered, stroking your hair. "C'mon, girl. Yer a fighter. Don't give up on me now."

  
Murphy's voice echoed through your brain, along with a pair of iceberg blue eyes before you fully succumbed to your injuries.

  
_Beep, beep, beep._

  
_The fuck is that noise?_

  
Groaning, as bright, white lights pierced through your closed eyelids, you attempted to open them but only managed to squint. You moved your hand, hissing as something poked around under your skin. The noise woke Murphy up, who'd been dozing in the hard chair next to your hospital bed.

  
"(Y/n)? Lass? Ya awake?"

  
You attempted to say his name but only a scratchy croak came out. Something styrofoamy was pressed against your lips and you opened them; cool water soothing your sore throat. You finally opened your eyes all the way, noticing Murphy's bright blues first.

  
"Hi."

  
"'M supposed to get th'nurses when ya wake up but I need a moment t'myself wit ya. What happened?"

  
"Parents."

  
"Yer parents did that to ya?"

  
"Mmhmm."

  
"Why?"

  
"Hate me."

  
His eyes darkened with fury and his face clouds with anger.

  
"Wish I coulda been th'one to kill 'em myself."

  
"They're dead?"

  
"Yea."

  
A wave of relief swept over you, and you sink back into the pillows, tears of relief flooding down your face.

  
"Didna mean to upset you, lass."

  
"Not upset. Not at all."

  
He took your hand in his, bringing your knuckles up to his mouth to lay a soft kiss open them.

  
A nurse walked by and came in when she noticed you were awake.

  
"Afternoon, miss (l/n). How are you feeling?"

  
You were about to snap something, but Murphy squeezed your hand to squash it.

  
"Sore."

  
"I would be surprised if you didn't say that." She flips through pages on a corkboard, scanning over what's written. "You've been out for about twelve hours now. Got two cracked ribs, multiple bruises over your whole upper half, a broken nose and two black eyes that are dark enough to compete with a raccoon. How you didn't suffer any internal damage cannot be explained other than you have a guardian angel watching over you."

  
"God doesn't care about me."

  
"Lord's name, lass."

  
"Well," the nurse scolds, "someone is looking out for you."

  
"When can I go home?"

  
"The doc will be in shortly to look at your injuries and make sure you don't have a concussion so, probably in a couple of hours. Are you her boyfriend?" she addresses Murphy.

  
"Yes."

  
"Good. She'll need supervision for the next forty-eight hours."

  
"Will do."

  
The nurse nods and leaves the two of you alone.

  
"I know I'm not yer boyfriend, girl but I don't think she woulda let ya outta here without me saying so."

  
"Thank you."

  
His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he excuses himself out of the room to take the call. A few minutes after Murphy leaves, two men in black suits come in, flashing FBI badges. One is a giant with shaggy brown hair and hazel eyes while his partner is shorter but still tall with emerald eyes and blond hair.

  
"Hi. I'm Agent Brooks and Agent Dunn," the blond one, Brooks, says in a serious tone. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about your assault."

  
"Wow. FBI and not the cops?"

  
Agent Dunn chuckles. "This one was a bit above what they usually deal with."

  
"Did you notice anything unusual last night? Someone following you or maybe someone threatened you? Weird smells, noises, anything like that?"

  
"No. Not until it was too late."

  
"What about whoever attacked your parents?"

  
"I think I was unconscious for that part. I don't remember anything."

  
Agent Brooks reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a card with his name and number on it, handing it to you. "If you notice anything that doesn't seem right, give us a call and we'll be there. We're going to be in town a few days to help with the investigation."

  
"Okay."

  
They exit as swiftly as they entered, giving Murphy a terse nod as they pass by. He makes a hand motion for food, and you nod. You turn on the tv, flicking through the channels for something to do but resort to staring out the window instead when you find nothing to ease the boredom. Figuring it was Murphy or the doctor coming in, you don't bother turning your head.

  
"Nice view from up here."

  
You jerk your head so fast it makes you dizzy for a moment and blink it away to greet your unexpected visitor. It's the glacier eyed man from the bar. He's so much more intense close-up, and a lot bigger and taller than you expected.

  
"Stalking me?"

  
His low laugh is sinful.

  
"No, my dear. Checking on you."

  
"How'd you know I was here? How do you know who I am?"

  
"I saved you last night. Was going to heal you completely but then it'd look a little funny with you not having a scratch and your parents dead around you, wouldn't it?"

  
"Healed me? Did you kill them?"

  
"They were hurting you. Of course, I did."

  
Alarm bells should be going off right about now, but you strangely did not fear this man. If he was a man.

  
"How? Why? Who are you?"

  
"Which question do you want to be answered first?"

  
"Who are you?"

  
"Lucifer."

  
The reply was so unexpected that you burst into laughter, rapidly regretting it when pain bloomed behind your eyes.

  
"Yeah, okay. The Devil saved me from my parents."

  
You lurch back in the bed when your head quits throbbing, surprised to see him so close. He holds his hand up and you flinch back involuntarily.

  
"I will never hurt you, dear."

  
His palm touches your forehead, and relief floods your system.

  
"Believe me, now?"

  
"Why would the Devil save me? Not even God cared about me."

  
"Daddy dearest is out doing whatever he pleases so he's not taking any calls right now. As for me, I do what I want. Even when I was trapped in the cage, deep in Hell, I could hear your cries and feel your pain. I vowed as soon as I was released, I would find you and make sure that those that hurt you would spend the rest of eternity suffering through the worst torture I could cook up." Lucifer's blue orbs darken and you truly believed him when he spoke next, leaning closer to you to make his point. "And I keep my vows."

  
Electricity crackled between you two, and as your gaze dropped to his lips, he inched even closer.

  
"Once you are healed, I'll come back for you and give you everything you've ever wanted."

  
His mouth ghosts over yours, and then he was gone, leaving your face flushed and panting. The world bursts into life around you as Murphy comes back, bringing Connor and food with him. Their smiles drop as they take in your wide-eyed appearance; rushing over to the bed and fretting over you like mother hens.

  
"What's wrong, girl? Ya look like ya've seen a ghost."

  
"I, uh, fell asleep and had a nightmare."

  
Murphy drops a bag of food into your lap; the heavenly aromas floating up to you and making your stomach growl, loudly.

  
"Eat up, lass. Or they won't let ya out of here."

  
The brothers' sit on the edge of your bed, facing the door as they eat, sneaking sideways glances at you to make sure you're doing the same. Connor steals the remote and puts on a western, making Murphy sit in the chair so he can stay in the bed with you. The movie passes the time while you're waiting for the doctor to release you.

  
You're dozing off against Connor's chest when the doctor shuffles in, giving you an apologetic smile.

  
"I see you have your guardians at the ready," he laughs. He points a flashlight in your eyes to check for a concussion, and grunts in approval when you respond easily. "Just sign these and you're free to go. Do you have a change of clothes? Your dress wasn't in good condition when you were brought in."

  
"Aye," Murphy speaks up, "I brought her some."

  
The doc smiles nods and hands you the paperwork. You couldn't sign them quick enough, and with Connor's help you got off the bed, grabbed your clothes and headed into the bathroom to change. You'd never been so grateful for giving them a spare key to your apartment.

  
It was a bit painful to get your bra and shirt on with your damaged ribs, but you did it without needing to get any help. Well worn jeans were slipped on next, zipping them up as you exited the bathroom. They even brought you a pair of tennis shoes so you didn't have to wear your heels again. You didn't dare look in the mirror but even after Lucifer healed you a bit more, you knew you still looked bad from the way the brothers' reacted. Connor handed you his jacket to cover your arms, and Murphy gave you his sunglasses to cover your eyes. It felt like you were being smuggled out, and made you giggle.

  
Connor tucked you into his side, kissing your temple.

  
"Musta gave ya some good drugs for you to make a sound like that, eh?"

  
_Drugs? Pssh. Just my guardian Devil? Angel? healing me and taking my pain away._

  
"Sure, Connor."

  
The three of your squeezed into the back of a taxi, with you clutching your belongings to your chest. Nothing sounded better than taking a shower and getting some sleep in your bed as soon as you get home. And with the brothers' help making it up the stairs, you did just that, sleeping through the rest of the day and night and into the next morning.

  
The sun filtered through your patchy curtains, blinding you as the light landed on your face. With a very unladylike grunt, you flip the sunlight off and roll over.

  
"Well," Lucifer drawls, "you must be feeling better."

  
You squint at the Devil, ignoring the way your heart skipped when you trace your eyes over his lounging form on the beat up laz-e boy chair in the corner of your room.

  
"How did you even get in here? Murphy and Connor are out in my front room."

  
"I may be the Devil but I still have my wings. Therefore, I can go wherever I want."

  
"That must be nice."

  
"Oh, my dear, it is."

  
So many thoughts run through your head as you ponder that new piece of information.

  
"Lass?" Connor calls out.

  
Lucifer holds a finger up to his lips.

  
"Yeah?"

  
"Heard you talkin'. You decent?"

  
"Yes."

  
He opens the door, holding a tray covered in eggs, toast and orange juice.

  
"Thought ya might be hungry. Murph and I made ya somethin' t'eat."

  
_How is he not seeing Lucifer?_

  
The Devil just smirks behind Connor's back.

  
"Thank you."

  
He places the tray on your lap, and a kiss on your forehead. Lucifer growls, loud enough for Connor to frown and look up, checking for a dog.

  
"Neighbors!" you stutter out. "They have a dog!"

  
Lucifer winks and Connor buys it.

  
"Let us know if ye need anything."

  
"Okay."

  
Connor and Murphy leave you alone for most of the day; checking on you sporadically and bringing you meals. Lucifer's company was odd but soothing, and even if he didn't talk much, there was something calming about his presence.

  
"(Y/n)?"

  
"Who is that?" Lucifer snaps, shoulders rolling like he's bracing for a fight.

  
"My boss. Be quiet. Come in!"

  
Jack comes in, big, brown eyes going wide with shock when he sees your bruised face.

  
"I knew something was wrong when you didn't answer your phone. I didn't believe Connor and Murphy when they said you'd been beaten by your parents."

  
"Yep. But, here I am."

  
"You're not coming into work this week and-", he points a finger at you as you start to protest,"- it'll be a paid vacation. You've earned it and you need the rest. I don't want to see you until Monday."

  
"Um, okay."

  
"I brought you some flowers. They're out in the front room with the others."

  
"Others?"

  
"Yeah. Got quite the fan club at work even if you don't see it."

  
"Thank you."

  
"You're welcome. See you _next_ Monday."

  
"You got it."

  
Connor and Murphy left you that night once they saw you could take care of yourself. Your phone was magically 'replaced' so you could call them if needed. Lucifer glowered as they each gave you a gentle hug and kiss, but kept quiet. The silence was deafening once you heard the front door click shut. You'd never been nervous around a man before from knowing how to defend yourself quite well, but the way Lucifer gazed at you had your nerves on fire. He watched you like a hawk as you slowly made your way out to the front room, touching each bouquet of flowers that were being kept in vases all around your living room and kitchen. You knew he was following you from the way the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

  
"There are people that do care about you. You just don't see it."

  
"It's how I protect myself. It keeps me safe."

  
He stands behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders, rubbing his thumbs into my shoulder blades.

  
"I can keep you safe."

  
_There's so much more promised in those five little words than what's spoken aloud._

  
"If you're real, what else is?"

  
He sighs heavily, gently turning me around to face him.

  
"The less you know, the better. There are things and people that want me dead, and they would use you to get to me."

  
Lucifer looked much older that moment, blue eyes filling with sadness.

  
"You're supposed to be the evilest being in the universe but yet, I feel the safest with you."

  
"Most people would say that I put a spell on you to make you feel that way."

  
"They're ignorant."

  
"Hmm. Let's get you back to bed. I can finish healing you, with your consent."

  
"Is it that bad?"

  
"I could call you Rocket if it makes you feel better."

  
_Ha. The Devil is a nerd._

  
"Does that make you Groot?"

  
Lucifer snorts, guiding you back to your room and tucking you in under the covers. His large hand hovers above your head, so you nod, giving him your consent and he places it against your skin. He's cool to the touch but the light that comes through is warm, rushing through your body as it repairs the damage. Peace overcomes you, and as Lucifer looks like he's about to leave, you take his hand, eyes pleading with him to stay. You've never needed anyone but you needed him right now.

  
"I don't sleep."

  
"I have Netflix."

  
His eyes gleam as he gives you a wicked smile.

  
_He knows what Netflix and chills means. Oh, dear God._

  
Lucifer snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's in nothing but a pair of silky boxers with emoji devil faces on them and you're in a long nightgown that's made of silk as well. You scoot over to make room for him but he hesitates.

  
"I run colder than humans."

  
"I've got blankets and a heater."

  
Still, he hesitates.

  
"Once I'm in bed with you, there's no going back. I will never hurt you, never betray you and never put you in harm's way. You are mine from now until forever."

  
"I've never felt so sure of anything before. You killed the most dangerous beings that threatened my existence."

  
_And that's the truth._

  
Lucifer slides into the bed next to you, taking the thin sheet that's underneath the comforter and tucking it around you to guard your body against his coldness. You lie facing each other; his ice blue eyes showing warmth in them as he stares at you like he's peering your soul. It was obvious he was contemplating something, from the way his fingers danced over the blanket and he furrowed his brows. It clicks when he reaches out and grazes his fingertips across your cheek, right where a gash used to be from where your stepdad's boot landed.

  
"I hated humans when Father first created them. Thought they were beneath us angels. Nothing but mud monkeys and botched abortions. I was right. Look at the way your mother and father treated you."

  
"Step-father."

  
"Where is your real father?"

  
"I don't know."

  
The edges of his fingers graze your hairline, brushing the little hairs away from your face. Something whispers inside your head, bringing a name up to the front of your mind: John Winchester. Lucifer's jaw ticks and the room drops a few degrees.

  
"Lucifer? Is something wrong?"

  
Just like that, he was gone, leaving you colder than when his touch had lingered over your cheek.

  
For the first time in your life, you cried yourself to sleep because of a man.

  
Monday bleeds into Tuesday as you wait for Lucifer to come back. Your bouquets wilt twice as fast; like they're feeding off your emotions. As Tuesday turns to Wednesday and Wednesday to Thursday, your sadness turns to anger and unfortunately, it was the day the FBI agents decided to pay you a visit.

  
You yank the door open a little harsher than needed, surprising them both as your furious (e/c) eyes meet theirs.

  
"Agents. What can I do for you?"

  
Agent Brooks looks taken aback by your sharp tone but steels himself against your harshness.

  
"May we come in?"

  
"Sure."

  
You back up, holding your arm out. Brooks walks in first, with Dunn nodding in thanks as he comes in behind him. It was difficult to swallow your anger but you choked it down as you closed your door. The men stood in the middle of your living room, making it seem much smaller than it is. You stood with your arms folded, cocking a hip out and crooking a brow.

  
"Soooo?"

  
"We were informed that you were released from the hospital and wanted to make sure you were all right," Dunn voices, sounding a bit unsure.

  
"I'm fine, as you can see."

  
Brooks squints like he's seeing you for the first time.

  
"You're healed."

  
"So?"

  
"You had a lot of bruising to be healed so quickly, don't you think?"

  
"I've always healed fast. Don't eat a lot of crap and have a bunch of lotions and moisturizers. And?"

  
Brooks stands a bit taller, emerald eyes flashing with irritation.

  
"Listen, (Y/n), we know when someone is lying and you're definitely hiding something."

  
"What could I be hiding? I was almost beaten to death outside my favorite bar by my parents, someone killed them and saved my life. There is nothing and no one here to hide."

  
A prickling sensation drags itself up your spine and stays on the back of your neck as if someone was holding their hand there. You tense, and the agents notice.

  
"Something wrong?" Dunn asks, catching onto whatever his partner may have been feeling.

  
"Nope. Are we done?"

  
They nod, stony faces revealing nothing as they walk out.

  
"If you're here, you damn well better have a good fucking reason for leaving me like that."

  
"I am sorry, my dear," Lucifer's whispered voice floats past your ear.

  
You whirl around, searching for your Devil but he's not there.

  
"If you don't show yourself, you're not welcome back. I hate questioning myself about anything and you're making me question everything! What are you keeping from me, Lucifer?!"

  
His name is a screech at the end, and that's what finally catches his attention. Strong, muscled arms wrap around your waist; his cool lips placing open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck and lightly sucking on your pulse point.

  
"You called?"

  
The man, devil, angel, whatever! lit your senses on fire as he moved his lips over your skin. It had been a while since you'd been with someone and your body practically begged for release.

  
"Who. Is. My. Father?" you manage to get out between panting breaths.

  
"John Winchester," he growls, spinning you around to press you against his chest. Glacier eyes are alight with lust and wanting, swirling around pitch black pupils.

  
"Why did that make you run?" You regain your senses, pushing him away.

  
Lucifer pulls you back into his embrace. "His sons are not big fans of mine."

  
You've begun a dance with him; it's aggressive, and helps show the feelings you can't express out loud. With each outburst from the both of you, you're spun out and back into his arms in a circle.

  
"What'd you do to them?"

  
"Possessed one and tried to end the world with an apocalypse. Tortured him in the cage with me and out. At one point he put himself in a psych ward because of me."

  
"Who are they?"

  
"Do you want their real names or their Agent names?"

  
Your breath whooshed out of you as you were pulled into his embrace again, crushed against him with a tight hold on your back.

  
"What?"

  
"They've got a sister right under their noses and they don't even know it. She's a pretty, fiery little thing and literally dancing with the devil."

  
His words pierced your heart, but not in a way you'd want them to.

  
"You only want me because of them? To get to them?"

  
Lucifer's lip curls in a snarl. "I didn't know of your heritage until I saw your memories, girl. Do _not_ misjudge my affections for you. My Father has a strange way of doing things."

  
The lips that curled came crashing down on yours, sealing in his passion, his desire for _you_. Not because of who you're related to but because of the fire in your soul that refuses to give up and die. Hot and cold clash together; his cool palms cup your warm cheeks as he deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue into the crevice of your lips, begging for entrance. You're mildly surprised when it feels like two tongues mapping out the inside of your mouth, but not entirely because why shouldn't the devil have a forked tongue? You grip his shirt in your hands, bunching in inside your fists to pull him down.

  
With a growl, he picks you up, automatically wrapping your legs around his waist for security as he carries you to your bedroom. The pace he's set is in between rushed and taking it slow; each movement calculated and deliberate. Swipes of his forked tongue along your jawline and up your neck drive you into a frenzy. Damn taking it slowly! You wanted him now! He drops you onto the bed, covering your body with his and dropping his hips to drag his jean-clad cock against your aching core.

  
His cold hands slide under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head, tossing into some forgotten corner of the room. Your chest heaved under his lust clouded gaze, as it sweeps over your bare skin; nipples hardening from the cold air. A hand and his mouth cover a breast and nipple immediately; his talented tongue swirling around the taut bud while twisting the other between his fingers, balancing it between pain and pleasure. This feeling of euphoria was incredible; sex has never been like this before. He switches and the wetness between your legs grows more, soaking into your panties. Grabbing his shirt and yanking, accidentally tearing it as you get it off him.

  
"Someone's eager," he chuckles.

  
You nudge his shoulders until he backs off, and braces himself on both his hands, puffing out his chest in his half-naked glory. Blond curls lightly sprinkle his muscled pecs, and he shivers as you run your nails through the hair and over his nipples, bringing a slight gasp out of him. The blond hair gets narrower as it goes down his belly until it's one thick trail that disappears below his belt line. He groans as you dip your fingers into his waistband, and jerk his hips down, playfully dragging your fingertips across his hip bones. With a flick of your thumb, you pop the button on his jeans, lazily drawing the zipper down, becoming delighted when you don't find any boxers underneath. His cock is hot and cold at the same time, and heavy in your hand as you stroke him inside his pants. He tosses his head back, letting out a low, sinfully deep moan as you push your hand further down his pants and fondle his sac, gently rubbing your thumb over each of his balls. One hand grips your wrist, stilling your movements.

  
"Keep doing that, my dear, and we'll be finished before we've even begun."

  
With a smirk and a snap of his fingers, his jeans are gone and so are your sweatpants. He moves so fast that it takes a second to realize his face is between your legs, with his hot breath fanning over your dripping cunt.

  
"Hmmmm. Do you taste as sweet as you smell?"

  
He sticks his tongue out at you, moving the individual muscles before turning his full attention to your clit. Your hips bucked, and you gripped the sheets in your hand, swearing that you could hear the fabric tear. Lucifer hummed in pleasure as you writhe on the bed, gripping your knees and hoisting them over his shoulders before plunging his tongue inside you. White noise filled all your senses, your back arched off the bed and your mouth was gaping open with no sound coming out. Oh no, you were _nowhere_ near coming yet with Lucifer's skillful sexual torture, but holy fuck did his forked tongue do magnificently dirty things to you. A rough thumb pad drags itself along the inside of your thigh, drawing teasing little circles along each inch of your skin, as it makes its way to your clit. Light little flicks are applied first, then slow, drawn-out circles that increased as soon as his tongue did. A long, high pitched whine left you with the new speed and pressure Lucifer relished upon your quivering core and clit. The faster he ate you, the louder you got. He suddenly plunged two fingers inside of you, crooking them against a sweet, sweet spot and set a blistering pace, bringing you swiftly to the edge. With an unexpected nip to your swollen bundle of nerves, you came screaming Lucifer's name for all to hear.

  
The fallen angel gave you no time to recover; he was up at your face in the blink of an eye and plunging his cock into the hilt with one fluid motion. Your cunt was still quivering from the recent orgasm, and your walls clenched tightly around him. An animalistic groan came out from deep in his chest as he held still for a moment, letting you adjust to his girthy length. He wanted to fuck you into a frenzy but wanted to draw this out and make it memorable. Not just for you, but selfishly, for him as well. The fire in your soul constantly called out for him, mending his own broken soul and weaving through it like supernatural stitching. Your arms came up and around his neck, pulling his head down closer so you could whisper in his ear.

  
"Fuck me, Lucifer. Make me yours."

  
Your words wanted to make him howl; instead, he mashed his lips with yours, giving you no chance to stop his tongue from invading as he began to fuck you. He pulled almost all the way out, before thrusting back in sharply, and repeating the action over and over. Your moans tangled with his as you shared breath and your hand clamped onto his neck for something to grip, meeting him thrust for thrust. The tip of his cock brushed against a place that borderline painful and pleasurable, and he made sure to hit it every time. Unintelligible words mixed with Lucifer's name fell from your lips like a prayer. With graceful movements no human man could ever dream of doing, Lucifer flipped the two of your around and suddenly you were on top, his cock impossibly reaching deeper inside of you.

  
"Ohhhhh, Lucifer," you sighed.

  
His large hands grasped your hips, slowly guiding you back and forth on his length. You placed your hands on top of his, rocking on your own now and leaning your head back as the familiar curls of pleasure awoke in your belly. The thatch of curls surrounding his dick was sensually ticklish but provided the friction between your bodies to increase your second impending orgasm of the night. Pretty soon you weren't rocking but bouncing, bracing your hands on his chest to fuck him harder. Lucifer growled your name as his cock swelled, warning of his approaching release. With a mighty upward jerk of his hips and a snarled 'ungh' from you as he did it, your orgasm hit, making your body feel like it exploded. What felt like forever but was only a few moments for you to come back down, you collapsed on Lucifer's chest, panting and twitching on top of him. He hadn't cum yet, giving you a slight break before he unleashed the rest of his sexual fervor upon you. Through half-lidded eyes, you could see a smirk on his lips and bright blue eyes lit up with a lustful gleam.

  
"Don't go to sleep on me yet," he warns. "I'm not done with you."

  
His gentle hands slid you off his chest, and onto your belly. As Lucifer positioned your arms underneath you, he kissed and nibbled along your spine before biting hard on your right ass cheek, waking you up from your post orgasm haze. Lucifer's sinful laugh hung heavy in the air while he lifted your hips, nudging your legs apart with his knees and placed a hand in the middle of your lower back. You turned your head to see him wink at you, guiding his dick with his free hand to your entrance, teasing your hole with the head.

  
"Brace yourself."

  
You roll your eyes, thinking that this would be no different than the way he's already been with you but when he slapped your ass, you realized you were so very wrong in a very good way. The doggy style position gave him more control, allowing him to fuck you faster and harder with little to hold him back. It was a damn good thing you didn't have a headboard because the poor thing would've already been through the damn wall. Something that was definitely not his hand reached underneath you and toyed with your clit, adding to the tension already in your body.

  
"Come, (Y/n)," he demanded. Lightning flashed in the room, revealing massive, shadowy wings behind him.

  
The powerful display was enough to send you into your final climax. Your vision went blurry, muscles went lax and your hearing was lessened but not enough that you didn't hear Lucifer's cry as he released his shockingly cold seed into your womb.

  
Lucifer pulled you down to lay with him, your back to his front and his arm wrapped around your stomach.

  
"Go to sleep, little one. I will be here in the morning."

  
You didn't need further coaxing. With a last kiss to the side of your neck, you passed out.

  
Lucifer didn't need the sleep, resorting to studying you as you slept and laying gentle strokes with his knuckles across your naked skin. The temptation to bring his wings into your plane of existence was strong even though it would certainly attract angels and demons alike if he did so. His Devil side shouted 'damn the consequences' but the small piece of the archangel in him did not want to put you further into harm's way. The Devil won, so he removed himself from the bed and with heavy concentration, his enormous white wings burst into reality, spreading until the tips touched the walls on each side of him. They were heavy, and if he didn't watch it, they would crush you under their weight. So, he had to make a few adjustments that would allow him to wrap you up in them without it killing you. This was the only part of his true form that you would ever get to see because even when you died and went to your Heaven, you not only would never see him again but also never see his true self. He will never get the chance to go home. Your life was minuscule compared to his, but for once in his long existence, he didn't want to outlive something. Lucifer climbed into bed, lifting you up enough to slide one great wing under you, setting you onto the feathers, and covering you with the other one as he settles in behind you once more. While his vessel was cool, his wings were warm, and you sighed in your sleep, content with the new temperature.

  
Your muscles were delightfully sore the next morning, but Lucifer worked his angelic magic with a massage, removing the soreness, only to make you sore all over again after he was finished.

  
He stayed with you until you had to leave for work Monday morning, promising that he would be waiting for you to return home. Only, he wasn't there like he said he'd be.

  
Something was wrong. Very, _very_ wrong.

  
Several men and women stepped out from your bedroom and kitchen, dropping lethal looking silver blades from their sleeves.

  
"Where's Lucifer?" they asked all at once, their monotone voices sending chills down your back.

  
_Lie._

  
"Who?"

  
"We can feel his presence. He was here recently. Where is he?"

  
"I don't know who you're talking about. It's just me here. I don't even have a cat."

  
A petite, brunette was in front of you in a flash, pressing two fingers to your forehead and then, absolute darkness.

  
Cold water hit your face, abruptly waking you as you gasped for air. You were tied to a chair in some grungy, abandoned house with only a dim light bulb to allow you to see your captors. One at a time, they attacked, leaving marks upon your body.

  
"Where is Lucifer?!"

  
"Who?"

  
A slap to the face and a slice across your cheek.

  
"Where is Lucifer?!"

  
"I don't know!"

  
This continued on for hours until you were covered in your own blood. They healed you when their attacks went to deep, but the little ones they left. One of your eyes were swollen, and a few fingers were broken, along with your nose.

  
_Lucifer_ , you prayed, before blacking out again.

  
The devil heard your prayer but could do nothing as he fought his way through a small horde of demons attempting to assassinate him so Crowley could keep his crown. His rage was no match for the spawns of hell.

  
Sam and Dean burst in through the room, wielding their own blades and their guns. The angels attacked and were taken out one by one until Sam had a big male pinned down, with a blade poised above his chest.

  
"Who is she?"

  
"Lucifer's whore."

  
You weren't recognizable underneath the dried blood coating your face so Sam couldn't have put two and two together, completely skipping over that bit of information anyway and focusing on the piece about Lucifer.

  
"Lucifer's back, Sam Winchester. Where have you been?"

  
Sam freezes, before plunging the blade hilt-deep into the angel's chest.

  
"He was lying, Sam."

  
"Angels don't lie, Dean. Not about Lucifer. He's back."

  
"Wouldn't Cas have said something?"

  
"What if he didn't know?"

  
"He's an angel, he should have known."

  
You groan as you wake up, hearing voices that did not belong to Lucifer or Murphy and Connor. Looking with your one good eye, you see Agent Brooks and Agent Dunn kneeling on the floor next to the body of a dead man with a blade hilt sticking out of his chest.

  
"Agents?" you rasp.

  
They look at each other before getting closer and peering at your face.

  
"(Y/n)?"

  
"Yeah?"

  
Then, it dawned on Sam. "You're... you're with Lucifer." His concerned hazel eyes go cold. "Where is he?"

  
"Don't you think that if I knew where he was I would be with him? And not still tied to a goddamn chair?! Hell, he was the only way I could probably find my father. My real father. Not the man that died with my mother."

  
"Yeah," Dean scoffs. "Because Satan is into helping people find their daddies these days."

  
"Apparently he is when my real dad is John fucking Winchester."

  
Both of them paled.

  
"What?" Sam gasps.

  
"Do you know him?"

  
Dean's face expressed a range of emotions: rage, sadness, disbelief and then suspicion. Sam's gone silent; resorting to pacing around the small room.

  
"So, he just up and announced that your "real dad" is John Winchester? Just like that?"

  
"He went through my memories after I mentioned I didn't know who my real father was."

  
"Prove it."

  
"How the hell am I supposed to prove it? I don't have any pictures of him or any way to prove it."

  
"Cas!"

  
The sound of flapping wings hits your ears and a dark-haired man in a trench coat appears in your line of one-eyed sight.

  
"Dean?"

  
"Did you know Lucifer had returned?"

  
"I thought it was just a rumor." A blade drops from his sleeve and points the tip under your chin, forcing you to lift your head or be stabbed. "What are you doing back on Earth?! How did you escape the cage?!"

  
"Back off, Castiel or that blade will be in you." Lucifer's presence chilled the air, and it only got colder as he noticed your appearance. Sam radiated pure fear, Dean squared himself to face the Devil and Castiel kept the blade where it was at. With a fling of his hand, Sam and Dean were thrown against the wall, reaching for an invisible hand choking them. "If either of you did this to her, I will personally see to prolonging your inevitable deaths."

  
"It wasn't them," you rasp out. "They killed the people that showed up at my place and brought me here."

  
"Hmmm."

  
"They know John Winchester."

  
"Of course they do. He's their dad."

  
"What?" The conversation you had with Lucifer the other night clicked. "Oh. They're my brothers..."

  
Castiel moved the blade, releasing you and moved away. Sam and Dean dropped to the floor, gasping for air and trying to get to their feet to attack but Lucifer ignored them, kneeling in front of you. With a snap of his fingers, the ropes were gone and you dropped into Lucifer's lap. You, Sam and Dean, couldn't see it, but Lucifer's wings arranged themselves around you, presenting them as he would for a mate. Castiel's eyes widened and stepped far enough away to not incite the fallen angel's wrath, lest he gets too close to you.

  
"What?" Dean looks at Cas to Lucifer and back.

  
"He's taken her as his mate. I cannot touch her."

  
"What does that have to do with her supposedly being our sister?"

  
"Are you blind, Dean?" Lucifer snaps. "Other than her (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes, she looks like a feminine version of you and Sam. Adam looked less like you."

  
"Who's Adam?"

  
"The other brother that Cas over there lit on fire with a molotov cocktail."

  
"Oh." _There's so much that needs to be explained with that sentence._ "What's this about me being your mate?"

  
"I told you before there was no going back with me before I got into bed with you." His voice drops to a whisper. "You are mine and I am yours." He runs the backs of his fingers along your cheek, sending waves of his healing grace through you. It was amazing to have the use of both eyes again as you looked at Lucifer. "(Y/n), these are your brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester."

  
Sam remembered Lucifer telling him that he would never lie and he knew that Lucifer really was telling the truth about your heritage.

  
"Can we please leave here? I would really like to go home and get cleaned up."

  
Lucifer stands with you tightly wrapped in his arms, nodding to Sam and Dean and flying you home, landing you both in the bathroom. His icy blue eyes flash with anger as he examines each tear and hole in your clothing but that's nothing compared to the red-eyed glare the dried blood on your naked form receives. He says nothing the whole time the two of you shower, delicately running the loofah along the patches of dried blood until there's no evidence that you were ever harmed. The fluffiest towels, courtesy of Lucifer, were used to dry you off. It was futile to protest against him helping you into your sweats and a t-shirt, but you did so anyway.

  
Sam and Dean were sitting in your front room, looking up when you and Lucifer emerged from the bathroom. They could see the Winchester in you now that your face wasn't covered in blood. Even with never meeting John, you mastered his stony stare.

  
"So," Dean starts, clearing his throat.

  
You perch on Lucifer's lap, looking very much the part of the Devil's mate.

  
"So."

  
"You're our sister."

  
"And?"

  
"Mate to Lucifer."

  
"Aaand?"

  
He clears his throat again, getting noticeably uncomfortable. Sam sighs, taking over.

  
"With you being Lucifer's mate and already getting kidnapped and tortured once, Dean and I thought we'd offer for you and... and Lucifer a place to stay with us. In our bunker in Kansas. Since you're our sister, that makes you a Woman of Letters and a Winchester legacy."

  
"Is that supposed to mean something?"

  
"It used to. Men of Letters were the classier version of hunters."

  
"Hunters? Like, big game hunters?"

  
Sam chuckles, his dimples showing. "No. Supernatural being hunters. Dean and I are hunters. Our dad was a hunter. We could-."

  
"No," Lucifer cuts him off, snarling.

  
"Uh, right. Anyway, what do you think?"

  
"There's nothing really here for me, so why not? Connor and Murphy will be upset, but that's about it."

  
That was an understatement. They whined, which sounded hilarious with their Irish brogue, but managed to throw you an amazing going away party in a matter of hours. When Lucifer introduced himself, they were skeptical at first, but quickly accepted him into the family. Especially once he proudly announced to being the man, (haha), that rid the world of your mother and stepfather. If only they knew who he truly was.

  
As you sat on the counter of the bar, surrounded by your biological and adopted brothers, the familiar patrons of the bar and Lucifer, you realized that with your new life beginning soon in Kansas, the only thing that had been a mistake was the people that "raised" you. Even if you'd never know John Winchester, you have Sam and Dean to fill in the gaps.

  
So, here's to new memories with your fallen angel mate, newly found brothers and soon to be new home to replace the old, bitter ones.

  
No one is a mistake, no matter what anyone tells you.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, what'd you think? Does anyone get the references?


End file.
